


Seduction Technique

by peanutbutterjelly-pie (Aleakim)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bad Poetry, Bickering, Bottom Castiel (Supernatural), Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Top Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:09:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26515729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aleakim/pseuds/peanutbutterjelly-pie
Summary: -Dean's seduction methods are awful.But somehow still effective with a certain blue-eyed angel.-
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 15
Kudos: 179
Collections: The Destiel Fan Survey Favs Collection





	Seduction Technique

**Author's Note:**

> -
> 
> Written for WritersOfDestiel's "The Day They Met" Prompt Week.
> 
> The topic of the day: smut 😏
> 
> And I actually intended to write some PWP for a change, but somewhere along the way they both started to bicker like an old married couple and then feelings were suddenly all over the place, so yeah, in the end it turned out to be a little bit of everything ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> -

Dean wakes up warm and happy.

For the first few seconds he has no idea where he is, what day and time it is, if the world is still the shit show it always used to be or if that magically changed over night, but he just knows he's safe and cared for and that puts an automatic smile on his face.

He blinks his eyes open and remembers that yes, he's currently residing in one of the ugliest motel rooms he ever encountered in his very long history. Mismatched colors so hideous it almost makes you cry, disturbing painting of animals in very weird positions on the walls and fairly questionable stains on the carpet (and probably on other surfaces as well, even if they might not be visible for the human eye). If it wouldn't have been for that spirit actually ripping people apart and this motel being the only place in town offering shelter at the time Dean would've turned right on the spot and ran for the hills.

In the end it gave Dean an extra boost to roast that stupid ghost as quickly as possible to have this whole thing over with. He and Cas tracked it down in record time and burned her screaming ass right there at the cemetery.

Unfortunately in the end it was too late to immediately drive back to Lawrence and they saw themselves forced to spend another night right in the middle of this colorful nightmare.

But Cas, sensitive as ever, noticed Dean's chagrin instantly and effectively distracted the hunter by initiating a wild sex marathon for the rest of the night. By the end Dean just fell into an exhausted coma and didn't give a damn anymore that his pillow was the brightest neon yellow humanity has ever seen.

As he doesn't give a fuck now.

It's quite early, just past sunrise, and the room is still as ugly as before, but he's lying in bed with Cas in his arms and nothing could ever be really bad in such a situation. Even another apocalypse wouldn't look like the worst thing in the world.

Dean plasters himself even closer to Cas’ back and sighs as he feels his lower region obviously getting rather interested in all the naked skin on display. He’s already sported his usual morning wood even before he woke up, but now, with Cas being all warm and perfect, Dean’s cock twitches, not caring at all that it already worked itself to the point of utter exhaustion last night.

It seems the angel always gets his engines running and if Cas’ mojo wouldn’t have been on standby right now, allowing Cas to slip into some kind of meditative state that an amateur might refer to as sleep, Dean honestly would consider foul play right now.

Or perhaps he’s just completely gone on the guy, with his mind, body and soul.

That might be an option as well.

Dean makes a grunting noise and pushes his hard member against Cas’ calm form. If he would’ve been a nice and considerate person, Dean just would’ve let the angel sleep to his heart’s content and not bother him at all. But as truth has it, as soon as a boner is involved, Dean isn’t a nice fellow anymore. 

No, he’s just horny, looking for release.

And since Cas is _right there_ Dean is determined to get him on the same train, too.

He presses kisses on Cas’ shoulder and collarbone, soft yet insistent, and releases little happy sounds he knows the angel always reacts to like a moth to the flame.

And as expected Cas eventually starts to stir and mumbles a sleepy, “Dean?”

Dean grins and continues to pepper Cas' skin. “Morning, sunshine.”

He loves this. Waking up with Cas. Just having someone by his side he can show facets of himself he never really revealed before to another person.

And of course he also loves to have someone so conveniently close he can get frisky with.

So he rubs his morning wood against Cas' naked thigh rather shamelessly and whispers into his ear, “Wanna fuck?”

Cas scoffs before he shoots an incredulous glance over his shoulder. “Is _that_ your famous seduction technique?”

Dean chuckles. “You don't like it?”

Cas blinks, chasing off the last remnants of fatigue before shaking his head in fond exasperation. “Humping my leg and asking me to participate in penetrative sex with less than three words isn't exactly the height of romance.”

Dean bites his bottom lip from grinning way too stupidly. He has no idea how the angel does it, making him so hot and bothered by using words like “penetrative sex”, but for Dean it sounds like the sexiest dirty talk imaginable.

“You want romance?” he challenges. “Roses, candle light? Perhaps even a poem?”

Cas buries his face back into his pillow and sighs deeply. “Well, I wouldn't mind a poem, I guess.”

Dean laughs at the grumpy note in his voice. “Alright, fine,” he relents. “How about this one? _Oh look at you, my sex machine, your skin so perfect, your ass so round, please let me plow you for the next few hours_.”

Cas glares at him over his shoulder. “That was horrible.”

“Everyone's a critic these days.”

“It didn't even rhyme.”

“Poems don't have to rhyme, buddy.”

Cas mutters incoherently, probably cursing the very day his path crossed with Dean's. “You're awfully cheery this morning. Do you have a secret coffee stash somewhere nearby?”

Dean leans forward to nuzzle Cas' neck. “ _You_ are my caffeine, Cas.”

Cas merely huffs at that. “That line was rather terrible as well.”

“Hey!” Dean pouts against the guy's skin. “I'm trying to be romantic here and all that shit.”

Cas makes a noise that seems to be less disgruntlement and more amusement. “I'm by far an expert in these matters, but even I know that all of this seriously needs some work.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “You're really difficult this morning. You wanna fuck or not?”

“Dean –”

“Or 'make love',” he corrects himself with a heavy sigh. “Or 'join our bodies in a grand display of affection and desire'.”

Cas groans. “Why do I even put up with you?”

Dean can help a smirk. “'Coz you're thirsty for my booty.”

“That must be it, yes.”

Dean beams, feeling elated by their back and forth. It might seem like stupid bickering from the outside, but Dean honestly cherishes it to just be silly with someone in such a way. He never really had that before.

“Okay, fine, have it your way,” Cas suddenly concedes. “I allow you to 'plow my ass'.”

Dean snickers. “How very generous of you.”

“But please don't expect too much participation. It's still way too early for this.”

If Dean wouldn't have been so freaking horny, he certainly would've agreed with that assessment.

“Can I get a kiss first?” he wonders instead.

Cas moans like this is the hardest chore anyone ever asked of him. But nonetheless he turns onto his back and pulls Dean in. It's only a chaste thing, but even the hot press of their lips against each other gets Dean going like nothing ever could. He chases the sensation and the little gasps Cas makes and finds himself getting quite smug as he notices Cas had already presented some impressive morning wood himself. Which is becoming noticeably more interested in the proceedings, so that Dean can't keep himself from rolling his hips in a sinful manner and revel in Cas groaning into his mouth.

“You like that, Cas?” Dean whispers huskily.

Cas merely huffs, obviously not willing to give Dean any satisfaction on that matter, before he rolls back onto his stomach. “Hurry up,” he grumbles. “I want to go back to sleep.”

Dean smiles widely at his grouchy little angel and drops a kiss onto his collarbone. “Love you,” he breathes.

Cas instantly melts at those words. “I love you, too.”

Dean keeps on brushing his lips over every inch of skin he can find while he simultaneously wiggles Cas out of his boxer shorts. It involves a little bit of awkward bending and not so sexy grunting, but in the end he manages to pull it down far enough to have a perfect view on that magnificent ass.

As expected Cas is still slick and loose from the night before and Dean only needs a little bit of lube to ease the way. Cas stays absolutely relaxed while Dean slowly fingers him open, like he's getting a wonderful massage he wants to enjoy at all costs. That's why Dean takes some extra time, lazily working two fingers in and out while occasionally brushing Cas' prostate.

Cas still tries to pretend to be unaffected, but the little shivers whenever Dean bends his fingers in a certain way certainly tell a completely different story.

Dean wants to tease him some more, resume their bickering and perhaps even indulge in another awful poem or two, but his cock is getting quite insistent in the meantime and Dean decides to postpone this for later.

Instead he slicks up his length with more lube and nudges the head of his dick against Cas' hole. “You ready, Cas?”

His entire body trembles, quite impatient to get this show on the road, but he waits for any sign of approval first while he gently rubs his cock against Cas' opening. The anticipation is both killing and thrilling him, ecstasy already taking over his brain even though they haven't done anything much yet.

“As punishment for that atrocious poem I should make you wait,” Cas says. He sounds quite breathless, but still has enough energy inside of him to make a point and be a jerk in the process.

“Fuck, babe,” Dean groans, pressing his forehead between Cas' shoulder blades. “You're ruthless.”

“I know.” That douche seems rather proud of himself.

“Cruel …”

“I _know_.”

“Heartless …”

“Thank you.”

“God, _fuck_!” Dean complains. “My dick's gonna explode _any second now_ –”

“That is highly unlikely –”

“– so unless you don't want me to jerk off into the sink, _stop being an ass_ –”

“Yes, fine.” Once again Cas sounds like he's carrying the weight of the entire world on his shoulders. It's only due to Dean knowing him and his quirks for over a decade now that he detects the slight note of teasing in his tone. That bastard.

“You may penetrate me now,” Cas allows graciously.

Dean really shouldn't be so crazily turned on by this, but dammit, he is helpless against Cas and his odd vocabulary. So instead of snorting and berating the guy's language Dean actually whimpers, “Please never change, you weirdo.”

And then he presses his cock against Cas' hole and slides right in.

It's a smooth process, everyone relaxed and loose, and Dean bottoms out in no time at all. He groans filthily as he's fully seated and rolls his eyes back into his skull for a moment.

Because, as always, it feels utterly amazing. It's hot and tight and wonderful and his brain cries in relief and pleasure at all these sensations attacking him all at once. They've been an item for almost a year now, but it always feels like the first time all over again. And Dean is pretty sure that will never change.

Even when he's gonna be ninety years old and Cas will suck his dick in the broom closet of the nursing room for the millionth time that month alone, Dean will still feel like a blushing virgin experiencing the outbursts of ecstasy all anew.

“God, you feel so good …” Dean moans into Cas' skin, pressing his eyes shut to grasp at the last remains of control and keep himself from shooting his load way too early. “So good …”

“Dean …” Cas breathes.

And the hunter knows that tone. He knows it very well. It means _get on with it, I'm ready_.

Dean won't let himself get told twice.

He starts slow, lazy. After all, it is indeed early in the morning and neither of them had their coffee yet. Dean at least uses most of his strength to enjoy the feel of Cas while not coming right there on the spot.

And if he's being honest with himself, he loves it nice and tender. Taking your time, exploring each other's bodies, listening to every single gasp and pant with vast interest.

Dean adores to see his angel like this. Relaxed and so eager to take it, to trust Dean to make it good and enjoyable. Cas gives himself over completely and the hunter almost goes insane along the way.

Because who would have thought they would end up here? Their first meeting in that barn (or at least the first time Dean _also_ remembers) seems like a lifetime ago. Cas had been terrifying and ethereal that day – and many afterwards – and Dean had been way too broken to believe that a being like this, so grand and powerful, could give a damn about a small little insect like him.

A screw up. A tainted soul. Someone who never got it right and only ended up disappointing everyone around him.

Yeah, Dean would have never even dared to dream about something akin to domestic life filled with love and bad jokes and bickering and shared clothes.

And _especially_ not with Cas himself.

But somehow they wormed themselves into each other's lives and somewhere along the way something amazing grew between them.

And now they're here, on a lazy morning, like so many before in the last few months, and it feels so natural Dean almost wants to cry.

“I love you,” he whispers again as he rolls his hips, seeking the sensation of Cas' tightness enveloping him. “Best thing that ever happened to me …”

He keeps his pace slow as he watches in utter fascination how his dick slides into Cas' heat. It's an amazing show and Dean wants to watch it on repeat in high definition for the rest of his life.

Cas, meanwhile, stays true to his words, not even moving a single inch on his own, obviously just happy to hold up his ass into the air and let Dean do all the hard work. Usually he's big on participation, eager to get his hands all over Dean's body, but right now he seems in the mood to just _feel_.

Dean keeps his motions lazy for a long while, merely switching between a single shallow thrust and kissing every spot of Cas he can reach, making the whole thing so utterly sweet it's almost nauseating.

But he loves it. He's never had this with another person before, at least not to such an extent.

However, at some point, when he feels his groin area becoming hotter and hotter by the second, his primal urges force him to _take_. His movements get a little out of rhythm as pleasure invades over all his senses again.

Pure, unadulterated lust.

“Fuck,” he growls, squeezing his eyes shut at the onslaught of powerful emotions.

Cas makes a grunting noise beneath him, probably noticing the change in pace. He even squirms a bit, meeting Dean's thrusts.

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean gasp. “You mind – _shit!_ – you mind going a bit … harder?”

Cas scoffs at that and lifts his ass even more into the air. “You promised to plow me,” he reminds the hunter. “I've been waiting for you to get on with it.”

Dean grinds his teeth. It's utterly ridiculous how much he loves this guy.

“You're a jackass,” he grits out nonetheless. Because that's just the way he rolls. And because it's the truth.

Cas merely chuckles, all sprawled out on the bed without a care in the world. “Just hurry up. I want to get back to sleep.”

Dean laughs at that before indulging in a particularly hard thrust that makes Cas gasp for breath. “You can't fool me,” he says. “You love this. You love me taking what's mine.”

He rolls his hips once more in a fierce manner and revels in the sight of Cas' entire body trembling at the sensation.

“You do, don't you?” Dean leans forward to nibble on Cas' earlobe.

The angel, meanwhile, pants rather impressively for someone who technically doesn't need oxygen. “Yes, I love it,” he admits. “I love – love waking up with you like this.”

He turns his head and before Dean even knows it they're kissing, deep and sensual. The position can't be comfortable for Cas in any way, but he seems determined to get a mouthful and Dean is more than happy to give it to him.

In the end it's just a frenzy affair.

Dean thrusts into Cas hard and ruthlessly, like he's digging for gold, while Cas grabs the headboard and holds on for dear life. The bed squeaks quite suspiciously, like it's close to its breaking point, and that thought alone turns Dean on even more. He goes to town, ecstasy clouding his mind, simple lust driving his motions, and plows Cas' ass just as he promised in his poem.

His orgasm hits him not long after. One second he is spewing the dirtiest curses his mind is able to come up with, the next he’s spilling his load deep inside Cas. Dean moans and gasps and shakes all over while an intense wave of pleasure washes over him.

It seems to take forever and at the same time not at all when Dean finds his cock eventually going soft. For a long moment he simply stays that way, catching his breath and once again wondering how something can be so powerful it’s able to knock him off his feet over and over, every single day. It appears magical, not from this world, and it’s not the first time that Dean asks himself if that’s either due to Cas’ supernatural nature or if he’s just so in fucking love with the guy that he senses everything tenfold.

Or perhaps it’s a bit of both.

At least Dean’s pretty sure he won’t ever get used to this. Sure, he developed a little tolerance in the last few months, considering he regularly tended to black out during sex with Cas at the beginning, but he’s still balancing on the edge every time and he doesn’t see that change anytime soon.

Dean takes a deep breath and leans forward to press another kiss to Cas’ shoulder blade as he whispers Cas’ name in the most affectionate manner.

And somehow that does seem to do the trick because the angel suddenly starts to clench around Dean’s soft dick and begins to tremble. Dean, knowing the signs of an impending orgasm better than anyone else, quickly pulls out before it might become uncomfortable for both of them, and watches in awe how Cas is succumbing to his bodily needs right underneath him.

He moans, mumbles Dean’s name over and over like a prayer, and eventually soils the sheets, probably beyond repair.

Dean plops right next to him on the mattress in the end and needs a lot of minutes to get enough oxygen back into his lungs to function marginally properly again.

“ _Damn_ ,” he hisses after another moment or two. “You _do_ know you’re gonna be the death of me someday, right?”

Cas, still in the same position, huffs into his pillow. “ _You_ were the one seducing me with horrible poetry. _I_ just wanted to continue sleeping. So don’t blame this on me.”

Dean grins, wide and stupid. “You’re awfully grumpy for someone who just had a mindblowing orgasm, my friend.”

Cas grumbles and finally turns around, wrapping his arms around Dean’s torso and using the hunter’s chest as a pillow. “Just shut up and let me sleep.”

Dean chuckles, digs his fingers deep into Cas’ hair and massages his skull as best as his exhausted body allows him. Soon enough Cas relaxes against him once more and Dean just has a second to think that he apparently hit the jackpot somewhere along the way because it could never be better than this and then he drifts off as well.

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
